“At least I have you, coffee,” I murmured in between sips to my tall, icy cup. “You always make sense. You never drop random demands. Or kill off grandmothers you didn’t even know you had.”
A sensual masculine voice cut into my mumbling. “I know people who worship their caffeine, but you take it to a new level, darling.”
I slowly raised my head and looked up at the bold, handsome stranger. If it wasn’t Prince Charming from the street brawl himself! His tender voice didn’t seem to fit the strong, wide grip in which he held his own coffee, but somehow, they melded together, like the opposite ends of a magnet. I already knew this guy’s playbook. So I should have known better, right?
Nifty dresser, fair skin, playful eyes, and about six-foot-three. Thick head of dark brown hair parted to the side, and slicked back with meticulous attention. Not a single stray hair or cowlick. His remarkable cheekbones were a perfect fit with his well-defined chin. A playful smile accentuated his perfectly full lips. The only flaw was a small scar that cut through his right brow, which added a whisper of rugged mystery to the stranger staring back. His eyes were a deep ocean blue with flecks of silver and they firmly fixed on my own.
Mesmerized by his good looks, all I could say was a bamboozled “Uh... hello?”
“How’s she cuttin’?” said the tall, dark, and diplomatic stranger.
“Who?” I wondered. Were those girls in a knife fight somewhere?
“You. How are you?” He slid into the seat opposite of me, a gesture so natural it was as if he had done it 100 times before.
“Oh. Fine, and you?”
“Things are looking up already,” he said, a shameless flirt.
“For you, I’m sure. Don’t know about your friends on the sidewalk.”
“Observant. You sound a Yank, eh?”
I smiled, and nodded. “I am.”
“Is that a thing over there? Praying into your coffee?”
“Is it a thing over here to juggle two girls at once?”
“Only two?” He smiled at me, a grin that expressed the clear notion that there was plenty of him to go around, and I, myself, could see how one might get that impression. “I take it you accidentally overheard my friends just now?”
“I would never eavesdrop. Even on a cup of coffee.”
“My apologies, then. But you sounded... distressed.”
“And you’re riding to my rescue?”
“I can never leave off with so fine an article as yourself in distress, unless you were to wish it so, of course.”
I couldn’t decide whether or not to roll my eyes, or pick my jaw off the floor. Now, a man this bold can be a problem. Yet, there was something about him that made me feel... well, trust. Yea, I know. Fucking crazy. But despite what I had seen, what I had heard, he just seemed... familiar somehow.
So I did what any red blooded woman would do. I checked him out, which he didn’t seem to mind. From head to toe, he’s a snappy dresser, freshly-ironed faded blue polo button up shirt, tan chinos with the bottoms rolled up a bit, and matching tan oxfords. Almost like he just walked off of a runway for Ralph Lauren himself. But something else tickled the back of my mind. It was like I knew him, or... somehow, he was a variation of materials that seemed familiar.
...Orin. He’s built just as well, although a leaner version. But I did immediately noticed his butt, it was just as delicious. What do they put in the beer in this town?
“Well, I’m glad you respect a woman’s boundaries,” I said as I casually sipped my drink. “But no. I wouldn’t mind having you join me. How about I... ‘wish it so?’“
“Then so be it, my lady!” he said, leaning closer, resting his chin in one hand and flashing that winning grin. “So, you’ve just arrived, I take it. How do you like Ireland so far?”
“What makes you so sure I’m fresh off the boat?”
“I would remember a beautiful face like yours.”
Really? How does anyone think they can sell a line like that. I bought a thousand shares on margin. “Okay. I am new to town,” I said sheepishly.
“Welcome, then!” Casanova boomed. “But why so melancholy?”
I shrugged. “Still trying to take everything in, I suppose.”
“Well if you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a tour of the town.”
“Ordinarily, I’d be happy to accept,” I replied with a small smile. Especially if the tour ended at your bedroom. But I quickly glanced down at my phone and replied, “I have somewhere specific I need to go. Maybe you could help me find my way? If you’re not too busy.”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t bunk off just for the chance,” said Loverboy. “Show me the address, and we’ll track it down.” A beat passed, and then he added, “I should apologize for not introducing myself sooner. My name is Weylyn. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss...?”
“Keira,” I replied. Weylyn extended his hand for what I thought was a handshake, but he planted a chivalrous kiss. To make matters more complicated, at his very touch, a vivid scene flashed before me.
I lie spread out on a luxurious bed. Weylyn positioned over me. His touch gentle, meticulous even; he strokes my face, as his other hand works me elsewhere. I can hear his warm, gentle breaths, and the soft moans which escape me. He knows how to stimulate me just so, to the point when I think the energy can’t continue, and yet…
As suddenly as it appeared, the erotic vision was gone. Weylyn seemed a bit surprised too, for some reason. “Seems like we’ve got quite a spark between us,” he remarked, although I couldn’t imagine he could read my thoughts. “Perhaps we should get moving. I’d hate to make you late.”
“Um… yes… don’t want to be late,” I mumbled. This wasn’t some cheesy nerd game where you get a sexy picture every time you unlock a love interest. This was my life. What’s with all
